Mikeala and Bumblebee's Spark
by ElitasLove
Summary: The secret pairing you know you want to read. Sam chases his own life and leaves Mikeala and Bumblebee behind. Only they fall in love with each other and become much more than friends. How will the others react? Adult fic with robot /human interaction.
1. Chapter 1 Seeing the light

Warning: This is a MATURE adult fic with male robot / human femme interaction. NO SLASH. It is done with taste and reasonableness but still about physical connections. Done for a challenge by a reader of a former fic. Based on the movie verse where Bumblebee is both a bi pedal robot and a yellow and black Camaro. Humans are Sam Witwicky and Mikeala Banes, set at least two years post Revenge of the Fallen.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**SEEING THE LIGHT**

The young Autobot scout waited, reviewing all safety protocols for what he was about to attempt. The quiet of the two-car garage and workshop reminded him the Witwicky parental units were away on a trip. He had free access to the garage but not the house even if he had been able to fit inside. Bumblebee might feel at home, but he knew he was not truly welcome. Too much injury, too much pain had been inflicted on their son despite the Autobot's best attempts to protect him.

'Spring break meant time to enjoy my friendship with Sam and Mikeala,' he processed. 'Simple human things like our picnics by the lake. We would talk, remembering the wonder of our first days together and learning to work through the differences of being worlds apart.' The yellow armored scout replayed the moments, treasuring each data bit of learning even as he grieved for their short live spans.

Both humans entered the garage at the time asked, keeping their distance from each other. Sensors detected the finest details from the microscopic composition of the dust filtering in the sunlight to the creaking of the ceiling beams as the roof cooled in the descending sunset. The distance between them physically, the lack of pheromones and the tenseness of their body language practically shouted to his enhanced systems.

Their relationship was straining as his college moved into third year. Sam blamed the intense schoolwork and studying, Mikeala blamed his desire for a new life by deliberately ignoring those who tied him to his old. Bumblebee did not understand, seeing only his two human friends shutting each other and him out.

"This might be our last time together for awhile," he began, bright blue optics focused on them as he sat on the garage floor in his robot mode. His yellow armored legs stretched to the sides and his weapons hid in subspace. Even his arm cannon remained hidden and unpowered, locked under triple redundant safety coding. "I have a very personal request."

"How can we help?" Mikeala asked, brushing her long hair back. Clad in her usual white tank top, tight jeans and boots she was beautiful to a human male. Unfortunately, his attention was not on her. Sam waited, both hands tucked inside his jean pockets, college sweatshirt hanging loosely, the emblazed logo another reminder of their differences.

"Trust me, relax and enjoy our time together," the mech vocalized, lying down on his back plates. His hands reached out, armored yellow digits curling around their soft bodies.

"Hey now," Sam said. "What are you doing?" Both protested as his hands lifted them effortlessly up onto his chest plates.

"I want you to mate," he started.

"No!" Sam yelled.

"You can't force us 'Bee. I don't love him like that anymore!" Mikeala snapped, pushing against his metal grip before slamming a fist into his armor gap.

"I meant mate with me," Bumblebee stated, retracting two plates in his chest to the sides. The punch registered dimly on his pain sensors triggering cautionary protocols. A small silver cable lifted up from each port by them. Mikeala's sensor cable folded over its end, softening with a rounded tip. The one by Sam did the same. Neither moved once revealed.

"Whoa! No way, I am straight and you know what that means!" Sam practically screamed, leaning against the metal fingers than held him. Bumblebee relaxed his grip fearing the boy would injure himself.

"Are you serious?" Mikeala asked, holding herself still and eyeing the end near her.

"Yes. I love you both. I want you both and would never recklessly endanger or force you. Those lines are the same I carry in my wrist for direct interfacing with another Cybertronian. They contain thousands of microscopic sensors directly linked into my core systems and spark. Refitting is specifically for your physical needs. I have over fifty safety protocols and system limits in place to make this fun for you without injury. Do you understand? I am offering the most intimate experience of my race and yours. Not for lust or curiosity but as the ultimate expression of trust and love. Please understand," Bumblebee practically begged, his inner chest plates unlocking as his spark surged. The shimmering white energy reached out, tendrils seeking the source of his rising emotional need.

"I want to spark with you and only you. With my chest plates open, a single impact can offline me permanently. We share our sparks very rarely. I have never shared with any other bot for love. Only once with a Autobot femme and she was a medic to teach me safeties for when I would truly mate later. You are my first."

"Bee let me go! Don't rape me!" Sam commanded in a near panic. The metal appendage near him changed, the end sliding back to reveal a long hollow padded tube.

"I would never force you Sam and the way you were thinking of would create an unwanted injury," Bumblebee stated, the hurt showing in his vocal tones. "Is it because you think of me as male?"

"Male, female makes no difference," he pointed over at Mikeala. "She's female and I don't want her either!"

"Sam!" she snapped. "You are such a jerk! Do you understand what he is asking? I never refused you and your fumbling attempts with me. I was patient because I loved you. Bumblebee has fought for us, nearly dying to keep us safe. "

"I don't care! I want no part of this!" he struggled; pulling away the second Bumblebee's hand released him to prevent self-injury. His body slid towards the floor, landing roughly. "I don't care what you want! I want a normal life! College, girls, and parties! No responsibility and no commitments! Where no one knows me and expects me to be anything on this world or any other!" He ran out of the garage and straight for the empty house. Bumblebee vented softly and closed the door with the tip of his footpad. He released Mikeala, ready for her refusal as internal systems locked down his hurt.

She licked her lips then knelt before sliding her knees out slowly. "You guarantee no injuries and we do this on the same level? Pleasure and love?"

"All safety protocols are engaged," he reassured. "Say 'stop' at any time and I will. This has to be of your own choosing."

She hesitated before flipping her sandals off. One smooth motion and her jeans with panties inside went sailing over the side onto the floor. The metal cable swayed closer, her blue eyes watching it closely. It slid across Bumblebee's yellow armor and under her. The soft end tapped her lower back, making her jump. Barely moving, the sensor began tracing from her lower back underneath Mikeala's bare bottom to her front and across the lower edge of her stomach.

"Ohhhh," she moaned lightly, blinking. "Do that again." He complied, using increasing pressure each time it slid across her skin. The multitude of sensors fed his spark the way no physical touch could have done.

Mikeala began pressing down, her knees moving further apart. Bumblebee scanned her intently, comparing heart rate and moisture readings then made a decision. The tip stopped moving, aligning directly under her pleasure center then began rising. She writhed, feeling the pressure against her increasing wetness. Without hesitation, she stripped off her shirt and bra, reaching and grabbing to balance against his metal hand. Bumblebee's spark sang at her touch and the feedback the sensors were relaying. He circled her body with a light touch of his finger, over her breasts, down her spine and back around her stomach, adding a magnetic pulse to fire her nerves.

"More," she gasped, her inner core sliding down the sensor tip until it was fully covered. Embedded deep inside her the tip throbbed and pulsated. Bumblebee shuddered, the data transfer flowing from her into him hitting his systems hard. Panting, she began moving rhythmically up and down its length. "Bad bad robot," Mikeala whispered, his acute alien hearing caught her voice clearly.

'Good femme,' Bumblebee thought, his spark blazing in the air as her excitement pushed his systems faster.

"Bad bad robot," she panted, vital signs showing her peak was coming. "Bad girl want robot," she whispered. "Want you want more want," she panted. One more caress, another magnetic pulse and she arched, muscles seizing inside as she tipped over into full orgasm.

"Arrggh!" Bumblebee half screamed, his spark flaring out in overload, the power tendrils nearly shocking him into stasis lock. He fluttered, systems surging with ecstasy programming. Internal heating alarms triggered then subsided. The sensor tip softened inside Mikeala, relaying its final signals.

The young scout vented softly, systems steadying and tingling with pleasure after effects. 'Never has a power surge hit my systems that hard before. Now I understand what Prime and the others were trying to tell me. Why we share so rarely yet powerfully with those we care the most about.' Mikeala was unconscious on him, a single errant spark surge knocking her out. Readings confirmed her online, functional and undamaged. He vented deeply in relief. The thought of her damaged left him uneasy.

"One more thing to do," he processed. A metal fingertip retracted, sliding out a metal prong. In a second, it was super heated and glowed red. He hesitated then seared her left buttock cheek, wincing as it sizzled on bare skin. A quick check confirmed a solid imprint. The Autobot symbol several inches high, above two Cybertronic glyphs was there.

"The first glyph, my true name, translated as Bumblebee," he noted. "The second meaning my most valuable possession or prize. Mine and no other may touch her under my protection," he processed. A spray nozzle covered the burn with a healing gel, cooling and sealing it against infection. He tenderly picked her soft body up. Nannites began cleaning the glistening fluids off his chest plates as the sensors folded back inside. His processors replayed her comment about being 'bad.'

"Sam rarely disobeys but Mikeala, she could be a challenge to love and protect," he looked at her naked form, seeing a human body but the spark of a transformer femme in her courage and strength. He wrapped his hands protectively around her, tickling her chin until she began to wake. The intentness of her look reinforced the strength of her words. "Ohhhh! That was incredible," she practically purred, shifting to a sitting position. "Where's Sam?"

"In the house watching TV. He never returned. Calculations indicate he will ignore my request then return to college by this weekend with limited contact." Bumblebee lowered her to the garage floor, keeping one yellow armored hand wrapped around her for support. The other began retrieving her scattered clothing.

"Figures. Sam always finished first the few times we mated and left me bruised. Not rough, just clumsy and awkward. Tripped and fell on me once trying to get his jeans unzipped." She pulled her clothes on while talking. "Your mating was fast, intense with no over stretching or pain. You are a bad robot," she waved a finger at him before finishing pulling the tank top down. He made kissing smacking sounds from his central mouth speaker. "Hmm, keep that up and I will be yours. Dump that nitwit human boy and the human race as a whole."

"Really?" he asked. His blue optics narrowed in tightly as every system focused. "I would like that. And not sparking only. I want to learn more about you as a sentient and beautiful being Mikeala. What you like, what you do not. What gives you a smile or makes you cry for happiness and not sorrow. I have never had a femme partner of my own race. Would you be my first and only? Accept my mark?"

"Tempting this poor earth girl with fantastic sparking and a loving relationship? You are a bad bad robot," she patted his side, leaning on it.

"Give you a spanking," he vocalized then froze in shock. Sam had used that line to tease her without ever being able to carry it out. Her responses had included punching him, dumping him into the lake and upending the popcorn bowl on his head. The mech waited to see what she would do with him.

"Promise?" She giggled, wiggling her bottom then winced. "Think I pulled something." He made a whistling sound while tapping the floor with his fingers.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2 Switch to mate

Author's Notes: Bumblebee and Mikeala are beginning to learn a relationship means more than sex. How does an armored mech handle a wayward human female? Especially one not used to obeying the rules?

**CHAPTER TWO**

**SWITCH TO MATE**

Bumblebee worked the damaged shoulder gear, reaching his armored arm straight up to realign it. Nannites repaired the scratches and dings but some repairs required more effort on his part. The latest Decepticon attack had been another strike and run, much to the ire of his former guardian and mentor Ironhide.

"Slaggin 'Cons are cowards. Won't even stay and fight," the ancient warrior mech grumped, rolling his war cannons. The other Autobots agreed, returning to their assignments or back to the NEST military base of operations. He headed directly back for the one place on earth he thought of as home. Not because of where but with whom.

Bumblebee tapped the main wooden support beam of the garage lightly with one yellow armored finger, delighted he could reach it while sitting and stretching. He was at Mikeala's repair garage now, not the Witwicky residence. Sam had become further estranged from them and the Autobots. Judy Witwicky had practically celebrated the day Mikeala announced he was to be with her when not with the other Autobots. Only her father knew the yellow and black Camaro she drove was anything other than a fancy car. With the repair garage deserted, he transformed to be with her as an equal. "And he has no idea of our true relationship. He thinks I'm her bodyguard and placed here to learn human culture."

Optimus had approved the transfer request, his silver lip plates curving to form a smile. The smile he no longer had when hearing Sam's name, grieving for him like a lost sparkling. In rare moments, Bumblebee wondered what he would do if Mikeala ever tired of him. Sam was only a friend and how his continued shunning hurt! What would happen if she left since their relationship was so much more?

"Sam still keeps in contact with her. If you call the occasional e-mail to his parents and her contact," Bumblebee vented softly as blue optics shuttered. Memory cores too willingly bringing up images from Sam's dorm room. The young scout back linked through the webcam on his computer to watch the boy and was disgusted. Sam drunk and stumbling about the room with one hand clutching the glass bottle instead of studying. Sam talking about parties with his roommate Leo and once, asleep on his bed with a half-naked girl Bumblebee did not recognize. He shook his helm sadly. "He wanted college for a normal life and is wasting the enhanced mind the Allspark gave him. I loved Sam too in my own way and I am glad now he never saw my spark."

"Mikeala is taking his betrayal better than I would have." Self-repair settled into a lower processing queue allowing him to focus outward. A time check showed she was overdo from her errand. He scanned the handwritten note, finding the simple message unchanged. _"Quick errand to run. Be back within 15 minutes, love MB." _The time stamp was now almost forty-five minutes old from when he had first read it, after awakening from recharge.

He shrugged human style and activated her personal tracker. It beeped from the nearby work counter. Optics narrowed in on her purse. "Took her wallet and left it here. Slag it! What do I have to do, put a tracker in her?" he grumbled. Cybertronian glyphs flowed across his optics with an inbound signal.

"Update from Autobot command," he processed. Encrypting keys unlocked it, transmitting the message directly to his central processors. _Decepticon movement increasing worldwide and trouble imminent. All Autobots remain on alert and do not hesitate to call for assistance at the earliest signs of an attack. Populated human areas probable fight zone. _

Processors panicked for a second then steadied. "I'll trace her through the GPS in her phone. A primitive but effective system." He electronically dialed the number, hacking the cell phone company computers with a request for her coordinates. Her purse rang. His blue optics flipped to X-ray vision. "Her phone is sitting in the bottom of the bag! Is she trying to make me bend my spark spires?"

Audio receptors detected the distant familiar whine of a motorcycle and his spark jumped. One second and he confirmed her motorcycle turning onto their side street. Soon as she entered his visual scanning range, he checked her head to toe for injury and rejoiced when there was none detected. "Shopping for food items," he noted, detecting the contents of the bags strapped to the seat behind her.

He opened the door, his presence startling her as she walked in. "Hey! Sorry, did not see you there. Got hungry and there were no eggs or bread for breakfast. Corner store price was too high so I drove to the main store," she explained.

"You were gone more than fifteen minutes," he held up her note, pinched tightly between armor fingers that dwarfed it. "You should have called, even from a payphone."

"Oops, my bad." She winked, beginning to put the groceries away in the kitchen. Her thin form was scantily clad in jeans and a short halter-top. Her hair was fresh from her morning shower at the ends and hung straight down her back, bearing the faintest imprint of her motorcycle helmet.

"Bad?" He echoed. 'More than bad. Oh, I could just tackle and thump her if she was an Autobot. It is our way. However, she is not armored and too fragile for a good mech thrashing. Confining her in the brig would be as useless and deprive me of her company.' A sudden idea occurred to him. A quick search of the internet confirmed human style punishments existed. He slipped outside, selecting a small branch from a nearby tree. A fingertip laser cut it precisely. Calculations on its flexibility, probable speed and force required, ran through advanced systems. Practice swings confirmed the programming accuracy then he hid the wood piece in his curled hand. Back inside, he sat on the main floor and motioned her closer.

"That was reckless and unnecessary. You left your purse and cellphone here. What would have happened if the Decepticons attacked?" Bumblebee began arguing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think. Not like I could ask them, hey mind if I make a phone call while ducking for cover? So I messed up," she waved one hand in the air, moving the purse to her locker.

"You were a bad girl. You know what happens to bad girls?" He vocalized without revealing anything in his tone.

"They get punished," she pretended to be fearful, eyes wide and holding her hands to her chest.

"Turn around and drop your pants Mikeala Banes," he stated. "This will not take long."

"Really? Oh woe is me!" Giggling, she turned around. Quick human fingers undid the pants belt buckle, sliding her jeans and panties down to her ankles. He held out his right hand, curling two of the metal digits inward for her to lean on. She bent her upper body forward over his two yellow armored fingers and waited. Her pulse and breathing began increasing slightly. He lowered his third finger onto her back to hold her in place as his other armored hand moved directly behind her, the twig firmly grasped. Multiple redundant safeties engaged to slow the force and maintain the exact targeting aim.

SWITCH

The twig whipped across her light skin, leaving a red welt. He had calculated the exact force to make it sting without injuring her fragile body. The internet had been more than helpful on punishment and the right and wrong ways to physically spank a child. The rest had been waiting for her to bend over.

SWITCH

"Ow!" she yelped trying to straighten and could not, pinned between his fingers. "Bee, what are you?"

SWITCH

"That hurts, damm it!"

SWITCH!

He used a little more force for her swearing.

SWITCH

She gasped, tears coming to her eyes then abruptly, he released her. "Bad girls get spanked Mikeala," he reminded. She held both hands to her stinging bare bottom, wincing. He rotated a side mirror from his alt mode to show her five perfectly placed red welts left to right across her butt.

"Next time there will be seven then ten if there is a time after that. You do not leave without your tracker or cell phone and stay keep in contact with me. No exceptions," he stated firmly, crushing the wood in his metal hand. The tears in her eyes as she stood there and shivered in reaction was too much. He transformed a fingertip end, showing a gel sprayer. She nodded, turning around again then sighed in relief as the healing gel took the pain away.

"You are too valuable to us to risk yourself that way. Decepticons appear at any time without warning. Their attack would hurt you more than being whipped," he reminded as his fingers transformed into digits. His spark felt heavy as his processors moved into normal routines. "Do you understand? They would offline you after torture or leave your broken body among the ruins and I could not endure that."

"I know," she muttered, wiping at her tears and keeping her head down.

"You left me no choice." Bumblebee stated, wanting her to desperately look up at him. He feared he had gone too far.

"No one ever bothered before," she looked directly into his optics. "Mom died when I was young, Dad was you know." She gestured over at his work space, tools and parts thrown carelessly everywhere. "Stealing cars and taking me along. Once I got older he would tell me, 'do what you want, just do not come home dead or pregnant. Rest you deal with.' Sam did not really care either. But you do."

"Yes," the alien mech affirmed. He settled onto all fours, leaning his bright blue optics in close to her. "I never want to lose you."

She smiled, sniffling then reached up, hugging his faceplates awkwardly. He cooed, relieved she did not hate him. A quick physical scan showed her vitals were still higher than normal but no indicators of pain or severe emotional distress. In fact, he blinked his optics suspiciously as heat sensors rose, focusing on the space between her legs.

"Mikeala, you're moist and aroused!" he stammered in near shock.

"Hmm, oh yah. It was a shock you spanking me but now, it's kind of a turn on," she giggled, holding her legs together. "I should," she began to reach down and pull her panties up when he stopped her.

"Why?" he asked.

"You care and proved it. That had to be hard for you and it hurt! But the residual warmth from the welts and now the cool air on my bare bottom is…" she trailed off, coughing nervously, glancing down and away from him while blushing.

He laughed, backing up and rolling over onto his back plates. "Engaging door locks and security alarm. We have a good hour before anyone else appears," his armored hand lifted her effortlessly onto his chest. "Bend over Mikeala," he stated, holding two metal fingers out for her to lean on. Her clothes were quickly discarded as his other hand disconnected the attachment from his hidden chest plate, reattaching it to a finger end, enabling its layers so sensors reported into his core processor and spark. "No pain this time, only pleasure."

"Never did it bending over like this. Guys always wanted to be on top of me like dominating made them more a male," she admitted then gasped as the sensor's soft end caressed her skin. "Ohm again." He complied, stroking with increasing force front to back between her legs. He aligned the tip with her opening, pushing gently to tease. She surprised him by sliding down on it, pulling it deep inside her body. His processors went mad as data poured into his systems from the cable. Back arching, hands clutching onto his metal, she moaned and writhed as it throbbed against her inner walls. His chest plates unlocked as his spark began rapidly pulsing. He began tapping his finger the barest bit, moving the delicate sensor in and out of her pleasure center. Her pulse and physical reactions climbed rapidly even as energy tendrils spun outward from his spark.

"Harder," she begged, pulling against his metal fingers and arching. "More." He increased the speed rather than risk hurting her with greater force.

His chest plates slid apart fully exposing his spark as it crackled and released energy spires. "Bad bad femme," he called softly to her then whistled as she reacted into full orgasm. Her body shook with the force, as though being electrocuted. Spent, she collapsed against his fingers, gasping and making whimpers of pleasure as he withdrew the sensor.

His armored hands twitched and shook as his systems reached overload. "Aaaggghhh!"

Mikeala watched breathlessly as the blue white energy crackled and Bumblebee's entire metal form arched up before stilling. For once, the arcing energy spires of his spark missed her. His optics dimmed then slowly returned to normal.

"Wow, was that good for you?" She joked a minute late.

"Grrrr rrrrrr Great!" A commercial sound clip played. "I never reacted that strongly before." Chest plates slid back into place with a transforming sound before locking together.

"Hmm, me either. With a guy that is. Never tried a woman. That idea grosses me out. But a mech lover, wow! Every time you top the last," she commented, stretching out on his warm chest metal plates. "Can we try that position again, but later?" the human girl sighed contentedly. "I was up early to shower and still haven't eaten."

"Rest Mikeala," he encouraged then gave her a light static shock to put her under. "I need to correct one thing," he realized. The end of his other finger transformed, configuring the welder tip to a single small curved bar shape. It heated super hot and glowed in a second. He tapped it twice briefly over his former symbol on her butt. He winced as the bare skin sizzled. Healing gel was immediately sprayed. "Have to think of an excuse to Ratchet why I need more of it. And Primus do not let him ask me where I keep spraying it." Blue optics regarded the mark.

"There. Changed the glyphs from most prized possession to my coded mate." He transformed his fingers to normal, scooping her limp form onto its side. A slot in his leg opened, revealing a human made fleece blanket for emergencies. He pulled it out, covering her like a child in it. "Not spark mate since we are two different species but coded mates. The closest a mech and femme can be without our sparks in rhythm," he murmured, knowing she could not hear and not caring. Somehow, acknowledging her as his mate was the right thing to do.

_to be continued..._

_NEXT: Ratchet discovers their secret. _


	3. Chapter 3 Secret revealed

Author's Notes: Yes, the adventure continues. First two chapters are expanded and revised. Please set _story alert_ in the lower left corner to get the latest updates as the discoveries and the reality of a human mech relationship plays out.

**CHAPTER THREE**

**THE SECRET REVEALED**

Mikeala paused, marveling at the near perfect human image in the full-length mirror. The plain grey walls of her room above the repair garage neither distracted nor supported the image. Her muscles rippled under the lightly tanned skin modeling the yellow bikini as she moved closer. Turning on her bare feet she moved her full-length dark hair and arched upward playfully. The white scar of the insignia stood out.

"At least the mark is hidden until naked or in a bikini. Slag it, I did not spend months working out at the gym to hide it under wraps and shorts. Left cheek or not I'm proud of it. Not exactly an engagement ring but more than any human ever gave me to show their love. Bumblebee has been gone two months and arrives back on earth tomorrow. We are meeting on Diego Garcia. Sun, sand and fun he tells me."

"And while he is gone, I agree," she held her head in both her hands. "To be the new earth ambassador after the sex tape scandal involving Sam. Would be scandal involving a very young foreign exchange student. Who happened to be a distant royal family member,' she raised her head up to stare at the blue eyes reflected back in the mirror. "If Leo hadn't gotten word of it and locked the video down long enough for Bumblebee to trace and destroy it before leaving on his mission. And does Sam thanks us? No. He accuses us of meddling and keeping an eye on him. As if we would bother," she ground her teeth together. Beeping caught her attention and Mikeala scrambled for her regular clothes laid out on the bed.

"Never enough time. Have to get going or I'll be late and the last thing I want is holding up a super secret military plane ride because I'm not dressed." The bikini stripped off in two grabs and her underwear slid into place. Jeans, shirt and leather riding jacket followed. Feet slid into motorcycle boots as the sounds of a motorcycle engine too powerful for any earth factory to make roared up her garage driveway. Pounding down the outer stairs, she waved cheerfully at the racing motorcycle revving. The holographic driver disappeared as Mikeala moved closer, travel bag in hand.

"Ready Miss Ambassador?" Arcee's mechanical femme voice greeted her.

"Is it too late to say no?" The young woman teased while latching her motorcycle helmet on.

"It was too late the moment you saw Bumblebee in his bi pedal mode."

'You have no idea,' she thought as the Autobot femme engaged her engine to race them down the narrow street and onto the main road heading for the airport. They rolled in through the airport gates and out onto the runway tarmac to load into the waiting Autobot Silverbolt. His massive silver alt mode dwarfed the other waiting planes.

"How long until we lift off?" She braced on either side of the sentient bike as the cargo hatch began closing right behind them.

"Rolling now," the deep voice echoed all around them. "Strap in for liftoff please."

"Is there a meal on this flight?" she asked, feeling her stomach drop as the air pressure suddenly changed.

"No. I only look like a Galaxy aircraft. We are straight line to Diego Garcia Island in the Indian Ocean," Silverbolt answered as Arcee transformed to her bi pedal mode. She wheeled over before sitting alongside. The femme shuttered her optics, relaxing her form. One optic snapped open as Mikeala's bag on the deck rustled then unzipped itself. Wheelie's blue optics popped out, swiveling around before his small digits widened the opening. He squeezed out, kicking off a t-shirt from his wheeled foot.

The the jet shot upward at a drastic angle. Hand over hand, he fought his way across the steeply tilted deck. "This a roller coaster or airplane?" the little Decepticon turned Autobot queried then balanced as the deck leveled out.

"Normal airspace achieved. You can move around the deck now," Silverbolt's voice echoed around them.

Wheelie rolled close, allowing Mikeala to pick him up and sit him beside her on the wide seat. She rapped his helm when his optics stared too long at the recharging Arcee. "Manners," she softly reminded.

"I can look and not touch," he replied but kept his optics moving.

An hour later had her nearly climbing the cargo hold walls out of boredom. Her novel was a favorite and well read but failed to capture her attention with its exotic landscaped and far away adventures. The bots with her recharged in the quiet of the plane even as her stomach reminded her of the need for food. Her blue eyes looked upward as the entire plane tilted to the side as it unexpectedly turned.

"Rerouting, non-emergency. The twins are done with their mission and are requesting a pickup. Do not worry, they are tired and have been behaving, for them that is. Any trouble and I will space both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe out the hatch. Those two always land on their feet pads," Silverbolt announced.

Mikeala bit her lip, considering how to phrase it. She was their guest but had limited interaction with the bots she now relied on. Wheelie she trusted but Arcee and the twins she knew only by Bumblebee's descriptions. Which did nothing to reassure her.

"Worried about being in the air with those two?" Arcee asked, curling her lip plates into a reassuring smile.

"Was it that obvious?" She laughed, wondering if there would be a vending machine or deli counter at the new airport. Snacks the night before were a distant memory.

"We are here to protect you Miss Ambassador. Prime would have their helms for energon bowls if they recklessly endanger you. His orders are very clear regarding you."

"Strap in Ambassador," Silverbolt instructed then dove rapidly. He slowed, leveling off then dropped the cargo door. Identical red and yellow Lamborghinis turned onto the runaway, increasing their racing speed, rolling the ramp and sliding to a stop in front of her.

"Watch the paint!" Sunstreaker snipped from the front.

"Missed you by a fractal snap mark," Sideswipe countered, his red armored bumper a hair's breadth from his brother. Silverbolt closed the cargo door and soared back up at a steep angle then leveled off.

"Hi guys. I don't suppose you have anything to eat?" Mikeala asked, hoping.

"Hello to you too human. Carrying energon?" Sunstreaker joked while his brother opened his alt mode's driver door.

"I have energy drinks the law enforcement officer left. His superior would not approve and he hid them in me," Sideswipe offered.

"I'll take just one if you don't mind," she said, unstrapping and moving forward.

"Take them both please. If I transform with one inside it could create problems."

Mikeala removed them both, placing one in her bag for disposal later and half drank the other. Her stomach gurgled, wanting the whole can of sugar and caffeine. 'Better not or I will be buzzing and then crash later. And I am so not asking about where the bathroom is unless I have too,' she thought.

Arcee looked at her then leaned in closer, "Your vitals are fluctuating a bit. Do you require assistance?"

"Just a headache. Aspirin would solve it," Mikeala made light of her situation. The human girl blinked when Arcee's pink leg panel popped open, revealing a standard white and red first aid mini kit. Upon opening, only standard human items lay within. Two aspirin joined more energy drink then the kit closed and replaced with a thank you.

"You look tired princess," Wheelie encouraged. "Lay out and get some sleep. I'll guard you."

::More we will guard her from you:: Sunstreaker sent directly to him on a Cybertronian comm frequency.

::Slag off lemonade boy. Autobot oath means we are same side. And I ain't telling Prime missy here failed recharge for your boring banter:: Wheelie

Hours later, Mikeala woke to sounds of the jets increasing intensity. "Landing shortly. Turbulence shouldn't be a problem, but stay locked until we stop," Silverbolt instructed. The landing was precision smooth and the nearest soldier grinned as Mikeala hurriedly hobbled down the ramp ahead of the mechs.

"Ladies room is on the right," he called to her then returned to his duties. Water splashed on her face in the restroom helped only a little. The heat of midday in that part of the world left her sweating. Change in her pocket bought a can of soda pop for liquid until she could find food. Then it was change into her three-piece suit, garb the agenda and off to the meeting.

Two hours later, she was ready to chase the government aide running the meeting and eat his assistant. 'What idiots offer only coffee and no food? And coffee so bad I would rather drink a mud puddle than that. They think because I'm thin I don't eat?" A wave of nausea passed over her again as she gritted her teeth. 'Soon as this closed door meeting is done I am going to get something to eat if I have to pull an Ironhide and blast them. Least no bots attended. Their medical scans would drive me crazy.'

Major Lennox frowned, noticing her decreasing color. He pulled out his cell phone, texting a number few even knew existed let alone had. "I believe it is break time, gentlemen and ladies," he interrupted the minute the man fumbled for another file. "Short recess for official business then we will meet again. Mikeala please meet me outside." He stopped, answering a question as she rose out of her chair.

She made her way outside, feeling lightheaded. "Sugar crash, high heat, scattered sleep and I agreed to this. Prime never mentioned this part," she murmured, her legs feeling shaky. Someone called her name and she turned too rapidly, everything spinning before crashing to blackness.

"Feeling better?" Wheelie's vocals drifted softly to her.

"Mmmmmm, what?" She blinked awake, groaning as the all too familiar walls of med bay surrounded her.

"You need to eat warrior goddess. Or you trying another diet?" he quipped. His optics ducked down as a large yellow green medic overshadowed them both.

"The intravenous feed in your arm is hydrating fluids and basic nourishment. Major Lennox is covering your absence with a suitable excuse and the others do not know your loss of consciousness. Wheelie, out!" Ratchet commanded. The medic waited until the doors closed behind the small blue mech, the distinct clicks of the security locks engaging. Mikeala bit her lip, feeling uneasy.

"I will give you one chance to explain and I will know if you lie so don't," Ratchet leaned in close, his multi layered blue optics spinning rapidly. "As our ambassador, you are under Cybertron laws. I can have you thrown in the brig, sentenced into exile or put into stasis lock aka coma for the rest of your existence or offlined for treason. Do I make myself clear? Explain what is on your body."

'Frag, Megatron in the warehouse about to scalp Sam wasn't this scary,' she realized but faced him squarely, sitting up but being careful of the IV line. "You mean my mark."

"The glyphs identifying you as the coded mate of our Bumblebee," he corrected but without anger.

"Oh. He never told me exactly what it was. Yes, we have an intimate relationship," she said calmly even as her heart beat rapidly.

"Relationship as in?" he echoed, optics narrowing.

"Mates as mates. You can ask him."

"I'm asking you. I am trying to understand why a mech that is young, never taken a femme picks a short lived, fragile race that carries no spark," he stated, the barest flecks of red in his blue optics. "All he has known is war and loss. You cannot breed nor share your thoughts in an interface. Why?"

"Because we love each other. I thought I loved Sam but he betrayed us all," she started. "When I am with Bumblebee I am myself. My mind, my likes and my dislikes, joys and disappointments. I am not a pretty face."

"No slag. Your race is ugly to many of us. Soft and rounded, thin. No plates or square line of beauty, no edges to grab or circuits to link into. My concern is for Bumblebee and what you will do to him," he directed the conversation.

"I won't hurt him," she defiantly challenged.

"Humans are neither loyal nor bound by their commitments. Even if you remain together for your pitiful short life span, he will suffer your loss. He is over ten thousand years old. How long will he watch you grow old, suffer the aging effects of your race, barring no accident or disease takes you first. How long until your last breath? How long will he grieve, carrying your image in his processors, your touch in his memory core? Did you consider that?'

"He asked me to mate with him. I have never forced him or seduced him. He is a big bot that knew what he wanted," she said even as shame filled her. They had discussed their differences but shied away from the details. The medic's challenge gave her nowhere to hide.

"I intend to ask him and review his memories. Our race communicates that way. I can relive it through his eyes, hear his thoughts, know what he felt and feels. No deception, no white lies that your race favors," Ratchet stepped back, crossing his armored arms as his blue optics resumed a more normal size and speed.

"Then you will know so why ask me?" Mikeala leaned back, feeling drained and unsettled.

"You carry the mark, one which any Decepticon will kill you instantly upon detection of or capture and torture you to hurt Bumblebee with."

"As opposed to soft cuddly treatment they would give me now after the way our paths have crossed!" she snapped back, rubbing at the impending headache.

"Rest now," he ordered softly. "I am needed elsewhere. Ring that buzzer if you need anything."

"Any word from Bumblebee's team?"

"They returned early and are processing. He will be here the moment he is free," he answered without being able to look at her. He exited through the door, digital locks engaging silently. He turned towards the door to the right, sliding it back to reveal a lone medical berth inside a smaller room. The young scout's yellow form lay on its surface in full stasis lock. A single cable running to his neck port for medical review waited. The twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stood guard silently.

"Bumblebee never resisted. No weapons or breaker surges were needed," Sideswipe reported.

"He stood there and let us upload the stasis lock. I do not understand. Everyone fights, that why you use us," Sunstreaker noted, his yellow armor paint shining in the bright lights of med bay.

"He either has nothing to hide or knew he cannot escape. I will determine which. You can go," Ratchet said.

"Mikeala never mentioned this, to us on the flight. Her vital signs were fluctuating but I assumed it was hunger or stress. I never scanned her," Sideswipe offered as they moved towards the door

"It wasn't necessary," he answered shortly. He waited until they left, hating the requirements of his profession but understanding the need for it.

Ratchet vented hard, spinning out his silver wrist connection cables. "Raising full firewalls, self core protection and medical scanning detection engaged. We cannot have a virus carrying or glitching mech that carries weapons. It would be suicide to him and those around him."

The connections engaged through the cable in his neck port, linking the medic to full system access. "Forgive me Bumblebee. I know not even Megatron did this when he captured you but we have to know. I am under Prime's orders to determine if this mating is a true one. And whether we accept your choice or pass judgment on one of our own. Are you in danger or is Mikeala?"

Flashes of memory flowed into him, each moment replaying as though living it himself. He saw Mikeala through Bumblebee's optics. The determination on her face in Mission city. "I'll drive you shoot." More memories flashed. The abandoned warehouse and his rescue of her and Leo, letting Sam ride with Optimus. The flash of Bumblebee saving Sam's parents then rounding the corner to see his lifeless body as the medics moved back and Mikeala crying over his form. He relieved the instant the boy returned, grabbing the silver Matrix and running with it.

More memories flowed, the moment he asked both his loves to share and felt the pain of Sam's rejection. And the joy that Mikeala accepted and said the words that made his spark soar._ "__We do this on the same level? Pleasure and love?"_

"Only seven times in nine months? Thought the human species bred all the time every time," Ratchet processed, breaking free of the memory download.

He replayed every mating, surprised at the overcharge the mech felt. "Bumblebee enjoyed it? No spark merge but same processing after effects as a regular interfacing. His advanced scout detection systems feels her readings as though a linked in system. Never realized that was possible outside our species."

Then he knew. They were mated however unequally. Bumblebee, as a loyal soldier would obey the order to separate from Mikeala but he would never be the same. The bright cheerful youth they knew would be gone forever. He would never trust them again on personal matters and would compare each femme with the idea of what their love had been. And Ratchet knew in his spark he could not enforce an order to separate them. "Without cause, I could not command it." His processors ran possible scenarios to reach a decision.

::Prime, we need to talk:: Ratchet sent on their internal comm frequency. ::And bring Wheeljack. His spark implantation plan may need reactivation::

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4 The after of ever after

Author's Notes: Per reader requests, their story continues. Not all chapters will be smut and merging but some. Next update already in progress. Please set _story alert_ in the lower left corner box to stay current or set _author alert_ to get notices on any story of mine with one command.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**THE DAY AFTER CINDERELLA'S BALL**

Bumblebee activated his optics, blinking and reveling in the fact he remained online. The tan ceiling stirred no packets in his memory core but his last coded instruction to himself, _remember Mikeala_, remained. One by one the attachments opened, from the first time he saw her, a human female among other humans triggering a heightened response in his charge Sam. The memories were all there down to the last, Mikeala waving at him as he rolled up the ramp into the cargo plane, leaving for the mission.

_SYSTEMS CONFIRMED INTACT. 100% MEMORY CORE ACTIVATION. _

_0 MEDICAL OVERRIDES_

_0 COMMAND OVERRIDES_

_20% POWER WEAPONS_

_10% POWER EXTERNAL SENSORS_

_ADVISE CAUTION: SYSTEMS REBOOT ONGOING_

"You could have asked first. Trying to hide your relationship was the stupidest thing you've done yet," Ratchet's vocal sounded from his right.

Bumblebee's systems continued rebooting, barely recognizing the concentrated energy signature that was the medics. ::I did not hide it. And asked you what?:: his mental tone conveyed his puzzlement and wariness. His armored hands and feet pads moved fractionally as he tested for restraints.

"I taught you better than that," Ironhide's vocal snapped his attention the other direction. "Any slagging 'Con could see those movements. You are a good scout, lousy prisoner. Up and at them. Femme waiting for you in the next room." The black armored warrior moved into visual range.

::Mikeala?:: Bumblebee sent, his optics widening. Long distance sensors remained offline, blocking him from detecting her living presence.

"Ain't Arcee," Ironhide grunted.

::What did you do? Stasis lock her too?:: Bumblebee sent.

"Treated her, that's how I found your mark. Trust me, looking at bare human skin is the last image I need before my optics. Mikeala collapsed during the meeting due to systems overheating and lack of fuel. And you could have asked us about your relationship with her," Ratchet grumbled, stepping back and folding his armored arms under his chest bars.

::I wasn't sure you would understand:: Bumblebee ducked his head, sitting upright and poking at the medical berth covering.

"We don't got to understand, just help you. We ever refused you anything yet?" Ironhide snorted, moving to stand beside Ratchet. His square black outline provided a solid background to the medic's taller, thinner yellow green chassis.

::No:: the young scout admitted, feeling his spark drop in shame.

"Worse, you endangered her. I am the one bot you should have asked for help. You are too young to know how bad things could have gone in your interfacings. To you and her," his lip plates curled at the last word before he assumed his professional lack of expression. Ratchet strode out of the private treatment room without a backward glance.

"He'll get over it," Ironhide said.

::Should I apologize?:: Bumblebee sent to his mentor.

"That would be a start," the ancient weapon's specialist gestured towards the open door.

Bumblebee found Ratchet beside Mikeala in the main treatment area. Sound asleep, her body was nearly lost atop the large Autobot sized berth. His helm vents plates raised a little as he realized she rested on the medical berth normally reserved for Optimus.

::The calibrated sensors monitor on a narrower scale to differentiate between Prime's energy, the matrix overlay and the enhancement echoes from combining with Jetfire's ancient seeker parts. Useful for humans with their intertwined biology:: Ratchet noted over their internal comms, the only noise the shifting of his hydraulics and leg gears. Mikeala slept peacefully, unaware of them.

::Ratchet, I'm sorry:: Bumblebee began.

::That solves everything then!:: Ratchet sent back, his mental tone nearly a roar as his armored hands tightened into fists.

::I don't know what to...:: Bumblebee began to apologize again.

:You don't know! My point exactly. I may not know everything like Prime via the Matrix but I have practiced repairs and healing longer than your existence! My hands held your first shell transfer scoop. I have watched over your entire life, from mischievous sparkling to a proud warrior to repairing what remained following torture by Megatron to now. Exiled on a world with a short-lived strange species you choose as a coded mate:: Ratchet snapped.

::I was wrong to not ask you first, upsetting you:: Bumblebee admitted.

::I am hurt you didn't trust me enough to ask at all:: Ratchet answered quietly, both of his armored hands grasping the side of the medical berth. Between them, Mikeala sighed, turning onto her side as she began awakening.

Both mechs leaned in closer, one to watch her reaction, the other scanning her with multi faceted enhanced optics. She saw only Bumblebee, reaching up for him. Ratchet waited until they finished their reassurances to each other to interrupt.

"We need to talk, now. Decepticons process humans as a worthless species. Other than soldiers teaming with us to fight, you are below their threat range. Kill, maim and ignore. What happens if they learn the human race can be used for pleasure?" Ratchet paused to let them understand the question.

"I'm not sure," Mikeala answered. Bumblebee twitched, his faster processors playing out possibilities. He knew more than any the pain and anguish the Decepticons chose to inflict on others.

"They will not use safety protocols or willing partners. Male, female, young or old will not matter. They will grab, use and discard their broken shells. Your race paying a terrible price for their pleasure over and over," Ratchet stated.

She rubbed her arms, feeling cold. "I never thought of that," she hung her head in shame. Warm, vibrant metal touched her as Bumblebee clasped both hands around her. He leaned in to croon softly. His blue optics reflected her image as she stared into their darker cores.

"You are the first interspecies couple and will probably not be the last Cybertron earth mix. For now, your secret remains among a select few. As Ambassador, your every action or spoken word has meaning. As coded mate to an Autobot, you need to rise to our standards of conduct, not humanities. Our penalties apply to you for breaking our laws. I suggest you schedule an appointment with the Second In Command, designation Prowl to start learning. Then with Prime to learn Transformer history. In addition, time with me to learn repairs and our normal operating protocols. What I taught you before is not even what a sparkling learns. And never forget, mates cannot be separated. Any attempt to break a recognized pairing is a capital offense among our race. Our fate is now yours Mikeala Banes."

"If you leave earth," she began.

"You leave with us. Cybertron cannot support your species. The atmosphere is breathable to your lungs but not one specimen of plant life or animal as you know it exists. No food to feed you and none of your kind to interact with," the medic reminded.

"As Ambassador then," she lifted her head to face him. "I better make sure you guys never leave unless we want to. Anything else?"

"Your next interfacing I will supervise," he stated firmly.

"You're going to watch?" She sputtered in disbelief.

"Primus no!" Ratchet yelled before calming. "I understand your species better than you process. I am not answering a middle of the night emergency call due to you two attempting a new position without understanding the limitations of the human body. Supervise as in provide a list of activities approved and which ones to avoid. You are sentient enough to understand, and not bother me with questions. Now, Bumblebee you are to report to Prowl's office with the others for a mission debriefing. You young lady, are dismissed to continue the work at the meeting you missed."

"So much for a personal welcome back," she kissed Bumblebee's armor as he withdrew his hands from around her.

"You will have time for that later. Duty first," Ratchet reminded.

A month passed before Bumblebee and Mikeala found the quiet time to try any personal activities. Meetings, budget reviews and social parties occupied her official time. Working with Prowl, Ironhide and the other Autobots until she fell asleep in place or stumbled towards her rooms occupied the rest. Bumblebee continued scouting for Decepticon forces around the world, twice entangling with them in battle.

Awaiting his return after the latest debriefing, Mikeala sat on the recharge berth, not far from the floor ladder but far enough from the edge to ignore it. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the arguments surrounding the wording on her datapad screen. "That one senator, what was his name? McKenzie! He argued about unfair human treatment. Transformers not supporting enough. Wonder what he'd say if he saw me sitting here."

Her mind went back to the evening Ratchet released her out of med bay, turning her care over to Bumblebee. His armored hands carried Mikeala across the military base, one hand shielding her from the setting tropical sun as the other cradled her like fragile glass. "I felt like Cinderella in a metal pumpkin. Whisked away to a happily ever after." Entering the Autobot's personal quarters, Bumblebee's fingers closed in, hiding their final destination until the door opened before them. She recognized it from earlier visits with Sam.

"Your room? Sure you want me in here? I might get lost," she teased, noting the piles of discarded data chips and armor attachments everywhere on the floor. The upside down cleaning servo bot in the corner, all four wheels in the air, emphasized the messiness of his private quarters.

"Our room," he texted across her glasses. A present from Wheeljack, they resembled human sunglasses. The Autobot inventor had tried explaining how they worked, confusing both Mikeala and Bumblebee after the first few sentences. The lenses darkened in sunlight, lightened when indoors to almost clear, and were near indestructible. The important part they both grasped were the multi-layered lenses allowed her to receive messages across all the Autobot frequencies in a heads up display. The sounds and Cybertronian glyphs converting to printed English.

"If only they translated politician wordiness to lie or truth," she mumbled. Returning to her studies, Mikeala frowned while trying to reason out the complicated wording before sliding the datapad off her folded legs and to the side. She looked longingly at the bed pillow resting against the wall then ignored it. "Rest later, duty first. Interplanetary Ambassador. One fourth insanity of dealing with two races, one fourth being in over your head with politics, one fourth dancing through lies without telling all you know and one fourth wondering what was I thinking taking any job with such a lofty title?" she stretched, leaning forward, both arms out forward, palms out. Inch by inch her spine unkinked, compressed muscles stretching out.

The doors opened and Bumblebee strode in, noting instantly her pose. His right hand snapped up to a salute position by his helm before circling down as he bowed from his waist plates.

"_My beautiful lady_

_That keeps the stars in her heart_

_Spread the light to me_

_Pull me from the darkness_

_You are my life and light Lady_

_I need you, I need you, and I have you now. _

The song played out of his speakers as she giggled. "I was stretching not bowing to you mech of mine." Mikeala's grin widened as a brief burst of static played. "That is the proper phrasing to a coded mech?"

He nodded his head so rapidly she blinked, imaging him as a giant bobble head doll. He moved closer, humming as a metal finger stroked down her back. The magnetic pulsing eased her aches. ::Feel better?:: Bumblebee sent.

"Hmm, yah. You know what would feel even better?" she grinned up at him, coiling her hair around her fingers.

::A hot bath?:: he guessed, his advanced sensors reading increasing signs of arousal.

"Hot yes, bath no. How about a hot mech with smexi yellow armor?"

::Sunstreaker? And I thought you loved me:: He sent before moving out of range, pretending to be fearful as the thrown pillow went sailing by his head.

"Oh you! I'm still mad at him for his last prank!" Mikeala snapped, closing the datapad and ignoring sound clip of laughter.

::I can make you forget him:: Bumblebee teased, activating his interfacing protocols.

"Really? How?"

An hour later, Mikeala sighed while tucking her head against his shoulder plating as her eyes began closing. Naked, her dark hair lay tangled and sweaty down her bare back as he stroked a yellow armored finger down it. Flat on his back plates, he human girl lay tucked between his arm and his side plating. His chest plates finished closing as she sighed again, shifting her legs to ease the sticky feeling from their mating. His own sensors tingling from multiple overloads, every shift of her muscles rippled across his sensor net. She sighed again, curling her fingers to hang onto him.

'Like a contented kitten purring,' he processed. His blue optics never left her face as Mikeala drifted into sleep. Thermal imaging transitioned the moment her consciousness slipped into full REM sleep. His other hand rose over her, the palm metal sliding back to reveal a small circular sensor. Bumblebee ran the multi spectrum scanner down her, its light flowing across her skin like an invisible wave. His systems nearly stilled as the data correlated.

"_Insufficient data for confirmation"_

He vented softly at the diagnosis, or rather lack of one, before sliding the protective palm covering back. 'For their short existence, humans take the longest time to reproduce. A Cybertronian femme would have confirmation by now, able to see the spark essence forming alongside hers. I need to know if she carries our human sparkling. This attempt should succeed and I can surprise her with the news. Until then, the waiting is going to slag my processors,' he grumbled silently.

_To be continued..._

_** Words to the song by me._

_Author's Notes: Bumblebee is full metal Autobot and Mikeala full human. The how and why of the attempt for a human child explained next chapter. Please review and let me know what you liked or didn't. _


	5. Chapter 5 I know what coffee tastes like

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Yes, the story continues. Sorry for the delay in posting, life has been crazy. This is intensely Bumblebee and some Optimus Prime with a few technical references but not many. Heavily references both TF live action movies regarding the Allspark cube then shards. Bumblebee, before arriving on earth, was tortured by Megatron and his vocalizer destroyed. The time flashback predates that, when he had a voice like the others.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**MECHANICS NOT BIOLOGY**

Bumblebee stared up at the ceiling, idly tracing the patterns of Cybertron stars painted across its surface. Originally meant as a novel idea for her from his past, they became a source of comfort. Lying on his back plates on the recharge berth, his helm rolled to the side to gaze at Mikeala. Sensors monitored her heartbeat, pulse and breathing rate as thermal imagining registered temperature and skin perspiration. But he wanted to see her physically, her naked body relaxed and warm against his side. "Small, fragile and totally mine. Now I understand what Ironhide meant." Sound asleep, she never moved as his optics dimmed, his focus turning inward. Bumblebee searched for the appropriate memory packet, retrieving and opening it. His optics darkened as the room disappeared in a white flash.

Ironhide smiled, slapping the table between their chairs with his hand. The recreation room held only a few mechs, the sounds muted and faint as their conversation continued. Outside the window, the stars blurred by, their sparkle lost in the hyper drive corridor of the spaceship's travels. "You will in time," Ironhide reassured.

The young scout vented deeply, frustrated at not understanding what seemed a simple concept. His legs swung freely as he sat, a habit carried over from his time as an over active sparking. Optimus continued discussing routes with Prowl at the far table, star charts and coordinates laid out before them. Bumblebee needed more information but hesitated to ask those two officers his questions. Especially on this subject. Ironhide would have to do. "I still don't understand. How will I recognize I love a femme when I can't find any definition of the lines of code to identify? Every thing else we do is logically dictated and reviewed."

His guardian sipped at his energon cube, the smile twitching the edge of his lip plates. Another sip hid the mirth before Ironhide returned to his explanation. "Bee, you are the youngest mech here and if Primus is listening, that will change. For now, the best I can explain is that love affects your processors in ways no logic protocol can define. Even a mech like Optimus," he began.

The yellow armored scout leaned forward, both elbow plates on the table top, totally entranced with the sound of the weapon's specialist voice. "Optimus has the kindest spark, able to give a second chance to even the worse Decepticon. Responsible and duty bound to a fault even before he became Prime. But where Elita is concerned, that is different. When they first met, he as Orion and her as Ariel, he had the biggest spark surge her way. His leg cables weakened with his struts feeling like caber jelly after a single smile."

"Is that how he knew he wanted her?"

Laughing, Ironhide dampened the volume when Prowl turned his helm their direction. "Youngling, Optimus wanted a lot of femmes and got more than his fair share of them at your age. Elita was different. Her grand sire, Commander Kup told me how they met at the Centennial Senate Gala. As Iaacon Police Chief he had to attend and invited her to show her all the clans represented across Cybertron in the Senate. The Gala, like the Senate, is neutral territory where anyone can attend without threat or conflict. Optimus attended with his sire Alpha Trion, the leading councilman. The two of them hit it off and never left each others side the whole night. About time to go, some military mech comes up to her. All bragging and rude."

"A Decepticon?"

"Nah, they didn't exist then. Not by that name at least," he frowned, wondering if that mech joined the Decpticons later. "He grabbed for Elita, telling her she needed a real mech of a worthy clan. Faster than you could process, Optimus reached, his hands grabbing the mech to swing his worthless chassis around. With one hand he pinned the larger mech against the garden pillar as his energon sword dropped out of subspace in the other."

"He did that?"

"You ever touch her again and I will take your spark,' he threatened. His optics had red streaking them when the mech dropped to the ground. Optimus stood in front of Elita until the mech stumbled back inside."

Bumblebee's optics widened, imagining his leader being angry at anything outside of a battle. "And Elita?"

"Loved it. Femmes want to be fought over and see big weapons waved around. And Optimus has the biggest swords this side of Cybertron," Ironhide grunted.

"That's not all she loves me for," Optimus regal baritone interrupted them. Sheepishly glancing up, they realized he stood next to Ironhide. "Telling stories old friend?"

"Ain't stories if they're true. Bee here is asking about knowing which femme is the right one."

"There is no one line of code to tell you. Femmes trigger the best and worse in our sparks. Elita and I waited to spark merge, nearly too late. But it only confirmed what I knew from that very first night we met. An existence without her was not worth enduring," Optimus said.

"Then I should spark merge to know?"

"NO!" three mech voices shouted, Prowl having joined the conversation once the star maps and guides stored away.

"That should be the final commitment to your relationship. You can merge but if your sparks lock, no other mech can merge with her spark or another femme with yours. You are truly one existence in two sparks and will reject any other. You can interface or overload with a different partner though why you would want to is beyond me," Prowl explained.

"The energy signatures literally intertwine and become one essence. That is why spark mates rarely survive the others offlining," Optimus reminded.

"And a merge after an interface with any femme can make sparklings," Ironhide added, smirking at Optimus. Their leader twitched behind his silver battle mask, imagining that scenario!

"Why mate then? Sounds easier without a femme around," Bumblebee said, knowing only two femmes in his short existence, both as caregivers and never anything romantic.

"And easier with them. Your spark will recognize her and every processing focuses on her energy pulse when she's laying alongside you. Interfacing is excitement and release, it's the after effects that bonds you as a couple. Sparklings are the universes way of extending that love, creating another generation to learn and love," Optimus corrected, narrowing his optics at Ironhide as if daring him to say different.

_Access memory file attachment link # 985?_ flashed across Bumblebee's optics, his system making the connection between the old ship memory with key word sparkling and the current situation with Mikeala laying against his side.

_Yes, full memory replay._ And the room disappeared into blazing light.

His inner optical iris triggered settings adjusting automatically to tone down the bright light of med bay. ::Ratchet? Can I ask you a question?:: With his vocalizer glitching, Bumblebee knew better than to try and talk instead sending the message over their internal comm, regular frequency.

"You just did," the faint reply echoed back, the medic concentrating on the delicate part on the workbench before him. Fingers trans-morphed, his mini laser welder sealed the connection as the wires spun out to wrap around each to the future nerve junction. Blowing at the lingering wisp of smoke, Ratchet sat the part aside and reached for the next blank template. "Is it an emergency?"

::Not yet though I fear it could be:: he sent, his mental tone teasing.

"Then make an appointment."

::It's not for me. Well, it is but not yet::

"Get to the point please. I have nine junctions to make to repair the twins after their latest jet judo attempt," the medic complained.

::I want to make a sparkling with Mikeala::

Startled, Ratchet nearly fell off the work stool, his precise hands fumbling for the metal shape as his processors skipped around. "You want to reproduce? That's not possible with a human. Are you slagging insane?" He spun the stool around to stare at the younger mech.

:No and here is how it could work:: Bumblebee continued, explaining his idea more fully.

"What do you need me for? Go find a turkey baster and get a human male drunk. Catch the sample. You didn't need me for interfacing, why bother me now?" Ratchet grumbled, turning his back plates to the young scout before retrieving the half finished metal component on the workbench.

::I was wrong then and need you now. Please help? I want the human sparkling to be perfect and so many things can go wrong:: he sent, using Ratchet's own phrase back at him. The medic bowed his helm over the workbench, considering for only a space of astro seconds.

"Collecting samples will not be difficult, the humans trust us. Did you have any particular human in mind to be the male half?" the medic asked.

::Captain Lennox, plus four other males. Take the best of their DNA chains and combine into one specimen:: Images flashed with the words, designating the traits each human had.

"And then?"

::I interface with Mikeala. Wheeljack designed a small injector coil on the end of my sensor tip. It will release the fluids necessary. Her own lubricants will do the rest:: Bumblebee explained.

"Only Wheeljack would make a Cybertronian version of a turkey baster," Ratchet grumbled, retrieving a digital copy of the design and upgrading it with a softer tip and lower ejection force to protect Mikeala's inner tissues. Three weeks later, they would put their plan into motion.

The flash of white signaled the memory file closing. Now, Bumblebee rested on his recharge berth, scanning Mikeala for evidence of the new life. 'Still not there. How long does this take?' His blue optics focused on her sleeping face, imagining how her expression would change when he told her. 'You are carrying our child. Mortal and earth made but to be raised as ours. A femme. She will know the growing of your biology even as the wisdom and technology of my race guide that growth. The duties of a parental mech I accept to stand before her in conflict and at her side in life. We will be a family.'

Two days later Bumblebee's elation had nearly sunk into despair_. _His footpads, designed to be silent for his scouting, audibly plodded down the hallway to medical bay. His blue optics dimmed partially even as they remained downcast. The med bay doors opened, his arrival slow and lacking his usual excitement. ::It didn't work::

"Welcome to the fragile world of biology not mechanics," Ratchet grumbled, leaning out the doorway of his office. One look, even without a medical scan told him the depths of the sadness. Rising to his feet pads, the medic vented, the air flowing out of his intake valves as he considered the professional way to handle the situation as he moved closer. "We can attempt it again in approximately three weeks human time when her fertility cycle resets."

::I wanted it this time. How will later be different?:: Bumblebee crooned mournfully, slumping against the side of a medical berth.

'Slag the professional way. He needs comforting,' Ratchet realized. His face plates lightened, his armored arm going around Bumblebee's shoulder plating. He applied half pressure, giving the mini bot a comforting hug. "Humans do not conceive the first time or every time. Planet would be overrun if they did," he said.

::But her temperature and the hormones fluctuations were perfect! The injector worked and I confirmed the sperm fluids reached her core. The result should have been a viable fetus forming:: Bumblebee sent.

"Should, would, could and might maybe. Nothing in our existence is guaranteed," he reminded softly.

::Does Primus not want us to have a child? Is my destiny to always look and never find?:: He began when a large presence entered through the double doors. The blazing energy signature belonged to only one mech and he felt the wave of comfort and reassurance flow across his systems at the rumbling baritone.

"Primus never would deny you that Bumblebee," Optimus spoke. His large red and blue figure carried his power and battle ability at the same time he knelt down, like a caring parent.

::Everything was perfect:: Bumblebee sent, his optics half closing as his helm vent flaps flattened down.

"There are reasons we do not understand. I have been a medic over ten thousand years and lost patients for no reason I could determine while others survived with damaged sparks and shattered shells."

::But I worked out very detail down to the precise timing based on her bio chemistry! I planned every step and probability:: Bumblebee protested.

"To hear the universe laugh, first tell your plans," Optimus quoted. "I too have learned destiny defines the end result but the journey is ours to take. Battle plans that turned on a single event unforeseen by either side. I sent the Allspark into space to protect it, ensuring its destruction to prevent its capture. Yet fate yields us a new home on earth, with allies and friends."

"There is a solution of a different kind speaking of the cube," Ratchet admitted, looking over at Optimus who silently sent his confirmation.

::How different?::

"Mikeala absorbed Allspark energy from Sam after the fight at Mission City. I ordered you to keep them close to drain off residual energy, without them knowing," Ratchet began explaining.

::I did! They laid on my hood while recovering and slept in my backseat until the military released them:: Bumblebee protested.

"Don't remind me," Optimus wiped at his optics as memory cores replayed the images. He looking upward, sending to the call to the stars to any other Autobots hiding there to come to earth. Then turning to see the human boy and girl practically mating on Bumblebee's hood like a recharge berth made his optics widen. Sam's thermal glow bright with Mikeala's dim but increasing as the energy ribbons flowed around them. And Bumblebee draining it down into his system to speed up repairs. 'Sharing energy is our most intimate act done in private and the three of them are different species.' The ancient Prime looked back towards the stars, suddenly lonely for his sparkmate and her blazing spark. Ratchet's voice brought him back to the present.

"Mikeala also carried a Allspark shard in her purse before the encounter with the revived Megatron. It remained on her person but undetected by Megatron and Starscream's scanners."

::Their focus remained on Sam, not her or Leo. They wanted what was in his mind. And she never saw glyphs or flashes:: Bumblebee countered.

"The download to the human Sam was information only. The power curling into her was at a physical level. I recognized it through my carrying of the Matrix. The humans, especially the military would have considered her a potential threat or kept her for experimentation had we told them," Optimus explained.

"Which is why we," Ratchet nodded at Optimus. "Decided to restrict the information to a limited number of Autobots. Not even Mikeala knows. It is not random chance we allowed you to reassign as her guardian when the boy carries our knowledge."

::But not our wisdom:: Bumblebee

"While adapted by the Allspark, he could absorb energy like any Transformer, though on a temporary basis. In Egypt, before reviving Optimus, the human medics tried shocking his heart back to working with electricity while his body rested on a metal plate. The back charge should have endangered every human touching the plate. It didn't," Ratchet continued.

::How?::

"We're not sure. The electrical current disappeared then flowed into Mikeala their next mating. If I had known, I would have warned Sam but found them after the fact. Both stunned unconscious and Sam slowly returning to normal functioning as a human. I hoped the data remains locked beyond his reach but it appears she had the greater effect biologically. To become more like one of us."

::That is not possible. Is it?:: Bumblebee began feeling hope.

"See for yourself. Open memory file extension 926 linked to the last data input of your mating with Mikeala," the medic ordered.

Curious, Bumblebee searched for the file before protesting it didn't exist. He knew every one of his data core files, cataloging them for any relevant data and to protect them against damage. There would come a time when all he would have of Mikeala lay in those files. His optics went wide as the file appeared in his holding que.

::Opening file 926:: Bumblebee sent then blinked as the world went white.

"_Oh that sun is bright," he complained, digging into his purse for his sunglasses. _

_::What? I don't have sunglasses, or a purse!:: Flowed through his processors even as his hand felt around for them. The rounded hard plastic shape hit his palm, causing his fingers to close around them. A second later he sighed, the light easier to bear. A quick check in the front display window confirmed the sunglasses accented the tank top and tight jeans without being obvious. _

_::That's Mikeala's image staring back at me. Wait! This is Mikeala's memory!:: he realized, turning back and ducking to avoid the larger human laughing and not paying attention as he and his buddies walked along the sidewalk. "Jerk," he muttered under his breath, before continuing._

_The corner open door caught his attention. Delicious smells of fresh pastries, brewing coffee and a hint of cinnamon spice odors wafted his way. "I need a caramel cappuccino right now." _

_::I can't drink coffee!:: he protested, feeling the breeze rustling his long hair as the door opened. He stood taller and moved slower letting the men get a good look while waiting in line. Minutes later, drink in hand he stepped back out into the sunshine to enjoy it. Sweet sugary flavor exploded over his taste buds, the warm liquid flowing down his throat. And the world went dark. _

Bumblebee fumbled, his optics opening to Optimus and Ratchet bending over him. ::I saw! I felt!::

"A memory of Mikeala's," Ratchet confirmed as the his multi layered optics dialed in scanning the young yellow mech. "Memory transfer via a electrical current in her brain changed by Allspark energy compatible to one of our data file packets. The same way our knowledge downloaded into Sam's human brain." Optimus' arms lifted and supported Bumblebee to a sitting position on the medical berth.

::Can I send her one of mine? Share what I want?:: Bumblebee asked.

::Possibly but I will oversee any attempt. No arguing! Human brains are not designed to store and catalog our level of information. That ten minute sequence human time is how tiny a data packet on one end of a coding line of one memory core bar?:: Ratchet admonished.

::I understand:: Bumblebee sent. Three astro seconds of his scout work took up more storage than her memory.

"There is a chance, a slim one," Ratchet began. "That combining her energy with the Matrix and a Allspark shard could transfer her memory, all that is Mikeala's existence into a Transformer data core."

::And the power to create a spark for her? Make her a transformer? The shard Jetfire had, we have it now! How much metal do we need for her shell? Can I choose the armor colors? Or should she?:: Bumblebee jumped ahead.

"Easy youngling," Optimus chuckled at Ratchet's open jaw look of amazement.

"If it were that simple I would have done it by now! Try a deliberate transfer of memories without shorting out her brain then another and several without incident before getting all fluttery in your wing doors," the tall yellow green armored medic snapped, folding his arms one over the other. Secretly he was pleased at the other mech's easy acceptance of a potentially dangerous procedure. Who knew what lay in a human's memories or when the memory could become an adapted line of code. 'Bumblebee is a handful now, imagine if he tried wearing clothes or wanting energy drinks and soda,' Ratchet pondered.

_To be continued…_


End file.
